


Stay the Night

by WaterSeraphim



Category: League of Legends
Genre: (exists but doesnt go inside anyone), Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Aphelios is Sad, Bottom Sett, Bottoming from the Top, Established Relationship, Feral Sett, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Pheromones, Sad Ending, Sett having a vaguely implied foot fetish, Size Difference, Teeth, Top Aphelios
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23960587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSeraphim/pseuds/WaterSeraphim
Summary: Aphelios doesn’t want to have to choose between his people, and his heart, but in the end the answer is clear.
Relationships: Aphelios/Sett (League of Legends)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	Stay the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I’ve been working on this thing forever. I wanted to write something for these two for so long. This is full of headcanons and conjecture for Lunari customs and culture and sett being beastly because I like it.

Aphelios’ life had never been simple. Ever since he’d been born, his destiny had been written out for him with the ink formed with pain and sacrifice. He trained to strengthen his abilities, mediated to clear his mind, consumed poison to communicate with his sister, killed to protect his faith, and on occasion he shared a bed with an Ionian crime lord. He hadn’t planned to fall for Settrigh, or as others knew him, The Boss. Somehow, by some curious fate their orbits crossed, and they were both held captive by its power. 

It wasn’t meaningful at first, it was all instinct, a need that could be sated and forgotten in the aftermath. But their paths met time and time again, their destinies intertwined, and Aphelios soon realized that he could not shake the feelings lurking within his heart.

Sett made him want to feel, to remember the sensation of touch. When he laid his hands on him, holding him tight and possessive like some territorial beast, it set a fire burning along his skin. It had been so long since the noctum flowers ripped it away from him. It was so raw and distinctly physical, drawing up edging thoughts of being more than what he was. A weapon for the Lunari, he and Alune, tools of the faith. A sacrifice upon the altar.

Aphelios was almost ashamed of his wavering devotion. Why should he question his destiny? His chosen fate? If he was called upon to defend his people he would do so without hesitation. He would kill for them, die for them, level the whole of Runeterra in the process. He lost Alune, the only friend and family he had left, in the name of his faith. If he were asked to, would Aphelios leave Sett as well? To return to a soulless shell?

If he could decide for himself without losing anything else along the way, he would never leave Sett. But it was not that simple, of course, matters of love never seemed to be. At first he could have lied to himself and claimed he shared no affection for him. He only wanted his body, his strength and his skill. It was the allure of the unknown, something exciting that managed to get his dead heart beating again. 

Urges needed to be quelled, the mind had to be clear of all distractions. One misstep could mean total devastation. All suffering showed a pledge of good faith. Aphelios was merely a conduit for a greater purpose…

Sett’s hands were large, the pads of his clawed fingers thick with callouses that traced patterns into Aphelios’ pale skin, following the swooping crescents of his tattoos. Sett’s chest often gave a pleased rumble as he stripped Aphelios of his clothes, his defenses. Aphelios gave it to him freely, he needed it. Needed a release. His wants were locked behind layers of self sacrifice and service. Frustration was routine, normal. 

He remembered razor sharp teeth breaking through tender flesh. Before then, Aphelios could not recall the last time he felt the beautiful sting of pain. Sett had been afraid of hurting him, he licked away at the wound’s bleeding edges in apology. He thought it was too far, that he lost control of his Vastayan side. His gold eyes were rimmed with guilt as he looked to Aphelios for reprimanding. 

Instead, Aphelios begged for more. Sett wasn’t the type of man to leave someone wanting, so he didn’t. He would happily bleed if it meant that he could feel again. 

Sett was much larger than him, in height and in musculature. It felt good to be so consumed by someone, to feel their heavy weight pressing down on you. Aphelios was more than capable of being used, letting someone else take control for their own pleasure. Sett wasn’t like that, not any more, perhaps not at all to begin with. He only made it rough when Aphelios asked for it, otherwise he let Aphelios rock into him slow and steady like the rise and fall of the tides. 

Every night they were together, their phases aligned for the moment, and in the day the duties of the world tore them apart. Aphelios left each time longing for the comfort of Sett’s arms wrapped around his waist, his breath tickling the back of his neck. His power was at its greatest when the moon shone high above. She blessed her chosen people with her gentle light, and concealed them in shadow. The Solari grew weak as the sun fell. Aphelios’ moonbrothers lusting for vengeance used that advantage with great pleasure. 

Aphelios never stayed the night. It would break him to do so, but it was also too dangerous to be away from his people for long. It was easier when he feigned apathy, and Sett played the game well enough. He wasn’t as skilled at numbing down his emotions or keeping the affection from his voice. He wore his heart plainly for everyone to see. Sett had no reason to hide when he was The Boss, untouchable, an unquestioned authority. Anyone that disagreed had to pay for it with a beating. The Boss was used to getting what he wanted. 

His kisses didn’t hold the bite they used to, his words gentler and his smile genuine. That did nothing to dissuade his attraction towards Sett, perhaps it made it even more maddening. Aphelios wanted him so badly, he had part of him, but not all. He wasn’t sure he would ever get more, and it wouldn’t be because of Sett’s doing.

Aphelios gave himself entirely to the things he loved. It was never in pieces, his devotion holistic and all consuming. He gave his body to the moon as a weapon, he gave his head to his sister as a window to a world she was forbidden to return to again. He gave what was left of him to Sett, to remind Aphelios that he was still human beneath the rest of it. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The moon was approaching it’s apex in the sky when Aphelios found him again. He was half delirious, and numb from the poison, his words just barely escaping from his throat. They shook past his lips with a weak, shuddering gasp.

Sett had asked about the noctum in the past, he couldn’t understand why Aphelios would submit himself to such suffering for the sake of power. He would never suggest that Aphelios should stop, not aloud at the very least, but Aphelios knew the idea was lurking in his head. Sett was clever, he knew not to poke around when he wasn’t wanted. He kept quiet instead of trampling over sacred Lunari practices, and questioning their validity like a bumbling idiot. Of course, an outsider couldn’t understand why he and his sister had been chosen by the heavens. Still, the concern that clouded Sett’s eyes whenever Aphelios struggled to breathe or croaked out half formed sentences was telling enough. Aphelios was almost embarrassed of this hindrance, he was afraid of Sett seeing the way the noctum hurt him. He didn't want Sett to worry about something that neither of them could change. So Aphelios hid his trembling fingers, and the way his body contorted into odd forms, hunching forward and coughing up discolored bile. The Lunari found no fault in it, praised him for his resilience and vigilance in the face of adversity. Sett clearly thought otherwise. 

It took quite some time for the poison’s effects to fully wear off. Alune didn’t need to see what he did with Sett. She didn’t need to know the language that passed between their bodies, the gentle touch of magic in the dark. Aphelios had the suspicion that she knew anyway, she had full access to his thoughts and memories, after all. They were so closely connected when they were together, it was difficult to separate himself from her. It wouldn’t take much effort for her to accidentally stumble upon something more primal. Alune was a kind sister, she would never mention anything if she knew it would cause him discomfort, but perhaps that was even worse than the alternative. The worry hung in Aphelios’ chest, weighing upon him like a plague. Would Alune condone his desires? Would she find Sett to be a fitting partner for her dear brother? If only Aphelios had the heart to ask. 

She would say yes, of course. All she ever wanted was for her brother to find some light in the darkness. Something to make all the pain worth it. _If Phel found someone he truly cared for then they would have my full support as well._

Aphelios did not visit Sett every day, obligations for the temple did not disappear when Aphelios willed them to. He was a disciple of the moon first and foremost. When he was capable of sliping away to find Sett, he always did so by nightfall. It was a sacred time for his people, but also necessary for his method of travel. The mountain was a continent and an ocean away from Navori, the heart of Ionia. Those faithful to the moon could be found anywhere its light graced. Even the creatures that lurked in the darkness could not hide from him. This ability was a blessing gifted to the Lunari, visiting distant reaches to fight ancient foes. 

But tonight, Aphelios was not hunting to kill. 

Sett’s fighting pits were the worst kept secret of Navori. People came from far and wide to spectate the brutality, the audience packed so tightly that you could feel a stranger’s sweat upon your skin. These lands lacked any sort of political faction or governing authority that most other regions possessed. Beyond rogue vigilantism and mob rule, there was no one to fear for the repayment of sins. Sett could take on anyone who came for his position, maybe even a whole crowd if he was pressed. The only person he was hiding his crimes from in the end was his own mother. 

Ionia’s elite lied in wait among the shadowy terraces spectating the pits from above, passing vast sums of gold to one another based on the outcomes of each match. While they profited from bidding on fighters, the only one really winning was Sett. Anyone who wanted a go in the pit had to pay for the opportunity, if you won, you made out with a small portion of what the crowd paid to watch. If you lost, your body was scraped off the floor in anticipation of the next round of contestants. 

  
  


The more common farmers and villagers filled out the lower seating, cheering raucously and shouting obscenities to the spectacle below. The fighters came from all across the world to show their skill, or lack thereof, in order to gain The Boss’s favor. Those lucky enough to survive a few matches continued on to earn a living in hopes of becoming a famed veteran of the arena. Most didn’t live long enough to be remembered, their names forgotten to the ashes of their burning corpse. It made Aphelios sick, knowing that many of those fallen fighters weren’t coming for glory, but because they had no other options left. Each life a star, dying out long before its time by the deceitful promise of fortune. He could only pray that they found peace when they returned to the night. 

The Boss himself was typically perched upon his throne with a bored expression on his face. He’d seen enough bloodshed to be unamused by most of the low value matches. Focusing just enough to pay the victor, and order his guards to clean the pit up for the next round. Aphelios could not imagine such apathy in the face of death purely for financial gain. This was the one facet of Sett that he could not dwell on for long without becoming frustrated. Having people so desperate for your approval killing each other just so you could make more gold required a greed beyond Aphelios’ imagination. It was an uncomfortable disagreement between the two of them that was better left ignored. Aphelios would be hypocritical to judge Sett for the blood he had spilled when his own hands were already soaked with crimson. 

The crowds lined up at every entrance to be accepted inside, but Aphelios often found himself simply walking through without a second glance from the oversized Vastayan bouncers. Their skin was hardened with scales, their presence radiating a powerful magic. There were two of them by this door, both dour and intimidating but one was shorter than the other by a good foot or two. The taller one gave him a knowing smirk as he waved him along. Sett’s people knew of him, The Boss made sure Phel didn't have any trouble getting close to him. It wasn’t a big concern though when Sett made a show of finding him first, anyway. 

Did the tall Vastaya know why his superior had given him special permission? Surely he did not imagine Aphelios was meeting The Boss in order to mount him, but to form some sort of deal involving the fighting pits. 

Stepping into the main chamber had been overwhelming the first time Aphelios was led inside. Having grown up among a small remote village upon a mountain often known for its cruelty meant he wasn’t particularly adjusted to seeing so many people in one place. He was better now, but it still made him uneasy. Even amongst the deafening calamity of an audience, Sett’s ears perked up. Despite the distance between them, his eyes found Aphelios’. His grin was all razor sharp teeth and hunger, pleased by his arrival and already anticipating its intention. Aphelios’ footsteps were silent as the night, and drowned out by the raucous crowd, but Sett could recognize him by scent alone. 

Currently within the fighting pit were two women, one armed with an impressive arsenal of blades, and the other with a hefty mace. The latter had been dressed like a warrior from the frozen north but now her exposed skin resembled a pin cushion, stuck full of daggers and bleeding slick crimson upon the arena floor. She tried with some degree of effort to calculate the blademaster’s movements, to block her vulnerable points with her massive weapon. From what Aphelios could speculate, it was only working about half the time. 

The crowd was anxious as they always were, many of the bidders in the luxury boxes were passing money with the expectation that the blademaster had already cornered her victim. She was confident, charismatic, and didn’t have a single scratch on her. A previous favorite who was expected to win without much of a challenge. It was a wonder why the blademaster was even set up against someone who was so easily outmatched by her. Where was the entertainment in a victory without pain? Did they send the warrior to fight with the intentions of bolstering the favorite’s winning streak, without any regards to her life? 

Aphelios knew that the blademaster had not yet won, it wasn’t so simple. It didn’t take a scratch, one good swing from the warrior and the blademaster’s skull would be crushed. The mace wielder was biding her time for something, but it appeared that she was running short of it all together. An energized chant was being echoed through the audience, signaling the coming end of a match and the wish for a bloody kill. The blademaster wore a showman’s smile on her face as she threw her dagger into the air with a theatrical flair. The crowd cheered, knowing soon their favorite would claim her opponents life. 

The woman threw a blade, catching her opponent in her shoulder. The warrior’s arm fell limp, but luckily for her it wasn’t attached to her dominant hand. Aphelios could see her fingers trembling, the fear collecting in her expression. There was the sharp clang of metal as another blade was harmlessly deflected by her mace's spiked head. The third blade was aimed for her face, directly between her eyes. Aphelios looked away, finding the owner of the ring much more eye catching than his show. He had no desire to watch others die in vain in unfair matches for the whole world to see. 

Sett was still watching him. 

The cheering of the crowd faltered just enough for him to hear the warrior’s roar. From the corner of his eye Aphelios could see her blurry figure rushing forward with a newfound burst of resolve, and fighting through the unimaginable pain. The warriors of the north were hardy people, able to bear the most painful of injuries and survive. Scars meant power. The warrior had no intention of giving up without a fight. As she charged ahead, the change in positioning caused the dagger to crash uselessly to the floor rather than meet its mark. 

With a startled cry, the blademaster was tossed to the floor from the powerful slam. The ground that was so covered in the warrior’s blood could offer no traction to stop her descent. The mace was raised in the air, a symbol of her final act. The crowd willed itself back into a deafening mess, remembering that any bloodshed was good enough for them. One hit, and it was over. Furiously, the warrior smashed her mace into the blademaster’s skull, grounding her gore into the floor with a deafening crunch.

Even from this distance, Aphelios could see Sett’s hair standing on end. The scent of so much blood was reacting with his magic within him thanks to his Vastayan heritage. It granted him a heightened awareness and empowered his strength almost tenfold. Aphelios was always mesmerized by the ethereal glow it produced. 

As the skirmish between the two combatants drew to a close, Sett rose from his throne and tossed a sack of gold into the pit. The surviving woman allowed a smile to flash across her bloodstained face. As quickly as it came, it faltered, realizing the boss she fought so hard to please wasn’t acknowledging her at all. Instead he was stalking away through the frenzied crowd, his eyes not straying far from Aphelios figure. Dejectedly, the warrior dropped her heavy weapon to the floor, now unbearably heavy after the adrenaline from the fight faded away. She picked up her share of the gold, the pitiful sum she had almost perished for, and limped into the shadows. 

Aphelios waited for Sett patiently. While the idea of fighting through a mob of bloodthirsty people sounded romantic, it would be best left to the man in charge. The audience gave him a wide berth, fully aware of the pain his fists were capable of dealing out. No one dared to cross The Boss, or stood in his way. Though some spectators were distracted enough by the spirit of an underdog victory and failed to notice him approaching. They were swiftly grabbed and rescued by those standing near them. As cruel as they were, no one wished a punishment by Sett’s hands upon another for such a simple mistake. 

  
  


When Sett finally reached him, he leaned in close due to the volume of the room around them. Aphelios was immediately drawn into his orbit. The power seeping through his skin, the way he smiled at the sight of him, Sett’s very proximity was making Aphelios feel weak. He wore so little clothing in order to display his impressive muscles, and his pants were so _tight_ … 

“Phel! I didn’t think you’d be here tonight!” Sett had a hard time getting his words out behind his huge grin. He ducked his head low enough to press his forehead against Aphelios’, lowering his lidded eyes and breathing in his atmosphere. It made Aphelios want to kiss him until they both forgot how to do anything else. “It’s gettin’ late, I thought you wouldn’t come.”

Aphelios was compelled to respond, but he had not spoken for some time, the air caught awkwardly in his lungs. He devolved into a fit of coughing, his eyes watering and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. Sett placed a large hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, pin pricks of claws becoming a subtle pressure. Aphelios could feel the warmth radiating from his skin through the layers of his clothing.

Uncomfortable from putting the conversation in Aphelios’ hands when he wasn’t prepared to continue it, Sett carried on speaking for the both of them. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, kitten. You’re the prettiest sight in this whole joint right now. It’s been a snooze-fest all day without you,” Sett leaned away to fight back a yawn as if to further prove his point. His sharp eyes scrunched up at the corners and his mouth stretched wide, revealing rows of fangs and a long, spiked tongue. His chest expanded as he made a low rumbling sound before returning to normal. “Sorry ‘bout that. So what brings you here? Been awhile since you poked around Navori.” 

As he blinked the tears from his eyes Aphelios nodded, managing to choke out a teasing, “ _pretty?_ ” When he spoke, his voice was quiet and deep with a raspy quality to it, like he’d been swallowing gravel instead of poison. It must have been days since he was last pressed to form words with his mouth. Preferring to spend his time that wasn’t occupied with bloodshed or violence by meditating in solitude. He was capable of verbal communication, but it wasn’t comfortable, and he was merely a novice in the language native to Ionia. 

Thankfully, Sett’s sense of hearing was better than the average human’s, and he was clever enough to fill in the holes of Aphelios’ choppy grasp of his tongue. A clawed thumb traced over the purple marking on his cheek. “Heh, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Irresistible, even. Can’t get enough of you.” 

“Surely not,” he protested. Being referred to as an object should have been upsetting, but Aphelios knew it was simply a byproduct of Sett’s dialect. Compliments of the physical sort weren’t very common among the Lunari, so it was always a shock to hear them pouring from Sett’s mouth.

Sett gave a purr-like chuckle. “C’mon, kitten. You know you’re fine as Ionian silk. You gotta know it, don’t ya? You’ve got charcoal around your eyes and paint on your lips. Or do you do that just for me?” 

Aphelios shook his head, somewhat flustered for being called out for his vanity. Darkening the eyes was a common practice among the native of Mount Targon, for both men and women. Especially for the more nocturnal Lunari who desired to shield their unadjusted eyes from aggressive sunlight. Likewise, Aphelios’ purple markings were symbolic of his role among the faith. They covered not only his face, but his entire body, as Sett knew well. “But prettiest? Do you not see yourself?”

“Aww, Phel,” Sett snorted. “I’m flattered. You think I’m pretty! No one ever calls me pretty.”

Aphelios raised a hand to card his slender fingers through Sett’s wild hair, rubbing at the base of his ears. Said ears swiveled backwards from the attention, while Sett’s pupils dramatically grew in size, and his head tilted up just so. Like a cat receiving scratches beneath its chin. “Pretty Boss.”

“They usually talk about how big and strong I am,” Sett continued rather than deem Aphelios’ affectionate teasing with a response. His tanned skin was still flushed a dark red though, despite his neutral demeanor. “I am pretty big ya know.“

“Yes,” Aphelios could not stop his eyes from trailing down Sett’s sculpted abdomen to the pronounced bulge in his clothing. Show off. He had to know what he was doing, his pants were a second layer of skin and he sat upon his throne like he was presenting himself. 

When he finally peeled his gaze away, Sett was there staring back, smirking knowingly, “m’ eyes are up here, Phel.” 

Aphelios took his hands away like they burned, instead crossing his arms cooly and replying, “I know where they are.” 

That seemed to stir something within Sett. His pupils grew even wider, blotting out his iris with darkened desire. He caught Aphelios’s hand and guided it to rest on his warm, muscled chest. “Listen, kitten. It’s gettin’ to the last few matches of the night. Why don’t we head back to my chambers and-“

“Settrigh,” Aphelios blurted out. He hadn’t come for flirtatious small talk. Not this time. He needed the reassurance of Sett’s physical presence, and to discuss the definition of their relationship. If they coupled together as well, Aphelios wouldn’t be opposed, but it was not his original intention. 

The use of his full name drew Sett’s attention. It brought a gravity to the otherwise playful conversation that left the both of them uneasy. Sett knew something serious had to be coming. “What do you need?”

“Privacy. To talk,” Aphelios sighed. Becoming so lost in their own world had made him forget where they were. He was put off balance by the amount of spectators viewing their intimate exchange as if it were part of the show. At least they had the decency to give them a wide berth, even if it was just out of fear of Sett punching their teeth out. 

“Right, uh, sorry about that. Crowds aren’t really your scene,” Sett replied sheepishly, his ears flattening back against his head. He vaguely motioned to one of the exits. “C’mere, let’s go somewhere you can swing your arms around without knocking someone out.”

The hand resting on Aphelios’ shoulder trailed down to rest upon the small of his back. Aphelios leaned into him, pressing into Sett’s side and allowing the man to lead him through the crowd. As they walked, those they passed eyed the pair with a mixture of interest and jealousy. Sett was a desirable man. As a famed brawler and owner of the fighting pits, he had his own following of devout believers not unlike some facsimile of a religion. The Boss often had plenty of arm candy flitting around his viewing box. Some challengers dreamed that one day they would gain Sett’s private favor. To them it would be an honor to have The Boss mark and claim their body. To show them that fighting wasn’t the only thing he was good at.

As of late the busty women, pretty men, and beauties in between that were typically found hanging off of Sett’s throne, had all been mysteriously absent. 

Aphelios didn’t intend to drive them away with his presence. He felt no great concern over the others Sett accepted into his bed when he wasn’t around, and confessed to as much before. Sharing intimacy between multiple partners was common among the Lunari. The idea of committing to a single person was harmful to a culture with so few people. As the moon shared its life with many other celestial bodies, so did its followers. Aphelios and Alune’s mother herself had had three spouses, one husband and two wives. They all cared for each other deeply, and raised the twins as if they had birthed the pair themselves.

  
  


Sett wasn’t supposed to mind the openness either. The Lunari weren’t known to many outside of the mountain, and even fewer were privy to their lifestyle. He did his best to understand the differences between what he and Aphelios knew as normal. Despite this, it seemed the big scary Boss had a favorite now. 

Aphelios smiled into Sett’s muscled, sweat slicked chest. Being the favorite wasn’t so bad. 

The room they slipped into was dark, illuminated only by a dying torch in the corner. It was some sort of armory for the pit fighters, weapons and the like were organized upright in wooden racks along the walls. Sett didn’t have his own private rooms within the arena complex, this section was allocated for dressing rooms, supplies and weapons storage, and washrooms for the audience. Another side building held his personal rooms, and even further still, the next village over held Sett’s mother’s quaint old home. The place he’d been raised in, the life he never really belonged to. 

“So you came all this way to… talk?” Sett raised an eyebrow, clearly implying much more with his smug tone of voice. 

“And to go with you in your bed,” Aphelios admitted with a breathy laugh. “If The Boss would allow it?”

“ _The Boss_ allows it very much. Mmm, always happy to have you, Phel.” 

His sultry words made Aphelios shiver in excitement. “But first, we talk.”

“We talk,” Sett agreed with a wry smile. “We talk _so_ hard.”

After all the thinking he’d done to prepare for this moment, it was still difficult beyond compare to get his words out. This time it wasn’t because of any noctum flowers or internal pain. The butterflies in Aphelios’ lungs were fighting to be released. Fear of rejection flooded his chest with overwhelming anxiety. If he misjudged Sett’s behavior, saw it for something it wasn’t, clouded by his own feelings of endearment… 

That would be upsetting, but not cataclysmic. They would still be allies at the very least, right? Aphelios frowned, realizing that there was more to this than he anticipated. Would Sett be rid of him as soon as he lost his alleged ‘ _irresistibility_ ’? Why settle for one solemn moon zealot when he could have anyone he wanted?

He should stop thinking, that was Alune’s job. Aphelios knew his instincts, that they were enough to get him this far in life, and they weren’t about to fail him now. 

Aphelios sucked in a breath of air and began quietly, “It’s about us, our… bond.”

“Pretty happy about our ‘bond’, what’s wrong with it?” the smile fell from Sett’s scarred face. He bit his lip in worry, sharp fangs sinking into pink flesh making it darken and swell.

“Not wrong!” Aphelios rested a hand on Sett’s chest, his long, slender gloved fingers cupping his exposed breast. He angled his head upwards, catching the concern in Sett’s eyes. The words he needed to say to get his point across were all jumbled in his head. If only they shared a simpler common tongue. “And that is the problem. Not wrong. You and I. We are connected. Destinies entwined in a way that leaves me asking…”

“How we got this far without ditchin’ each other?” Sett suggested aloud. “I'm still surprised every time you come back. Thought the first would be it since you didn’t stay and all. Not complainin’ or anything, just saying. I don’t get what a guy like you sees in someone like me. I’m some violent bastard making people bash each other’s brains in for some dough and you’re… amazing,” he finished, somewhat breathlessly. 

“I am no better than you, Settrigh,” Aphelios’ chest felt tight. Did Sett really expect him to leave, disappear and never return? But then he stopped taking other partners, what was he wanting for? It didn’t make sense. Aphelios wished Alune was there to help him understand whatever was going on between him and Sett. “As long as you will have me, I will return to you. Some nights I may have my duty, but I still think of you. Still want to be by your side.”

“Listen, Phel, defending your people should always come before whatever we do. By all means, be bound by your duty. I get it, I would kill a whole lotta scummy bastards if anything happened to my ma’. I don’t want you feeling guilty about not stayin’ the night or whatever. I ain’t gonna cry about it. It’s just sex, ya know?”

He wasn’t about to run away from his fated role among the Lunari for a single man. Still, Sett’s last comment rang hollow in his ears, and made his eyebrows raise dramatically. Physical attraction caused their orbits to fall in sync, but it wasn’t the force keeping them together now. It was much more powerful than the two halves of their whole. Was he lying to Aphelios for his own sake, or something else? 

“Is it?” Aphelios countered. 

“Damn, kitten. You don’t hold back any punches,” Sett’s broad shoulders slumped defeatedly.

“Someone once told me they liked that.” 

“Musta been quite the bastard.” Sett managed a weak purr in his emotionally vulnerable state. It lacked the bite Aphelios was so used to associating with him. In that moment he appeared so small despite being so massive. “I’m not gonna fight it, ‘cuz I never pick a fight I know I won’t win. You could say you weren’t ever gonna do nothin’ more than speak to me ever again, and I would still hang on your every word. Aphelios, I… care about you more than I probably should. Most people in my life leave me after realizing I’m not all they cracked me out to be, or they’re my ma’, but you ain’t leaving an’ that scares me. I didn’t wanna ruin it by asking for more ‘cuz the thought of losin’ you makes me want to punch a hole in a wall. But I really, really want something more.”

Aphelios gave a small smile, cupping Sett’s face between his hands. With all the confusion clinging to his heart at least he was sure of this. “Me too.”

“I talk too much, don’t I?” Sett enveloped Aphelios’ hands with his own much larger ones. “You make everythin’ sound so simple.” The friction of his calloused fingertips was a much needed and well defined quirk of who he was. Aphelios couldn’t make the mountain of a man move on his own, he doubted anyone could, so he could only indicate his intentions and wait for Sett to catch up with them. He stood as tall as he could, angling his head upwards and waited…

Sett met him before a single breath could pass between them. One of the hands he used to capture Aphelios’ fell to his waist and held him there. His individual fingers spread out, fanning the length of his back and covering almost all of it. 

Aphelios could feel Sett’s cheeks heating up as he kissed him relentlessly, with the force of all the pent up need and half spoken confessions from earlier. When they first touched each other like this, Aphelios had expected it to go much differently. Sett was strong, much stronger than him. He could take whatever he wanted while barely working for it, but he didn’t. Instead he was a steady supportive presence, he took the lead guiding Aphelios through the motions but ultimately left the power of control to him. 

Sett opened up his mouth in a silent invitation, lowering his jaw and baring his fangs. Aphelios pressed into him, tasting something that wasn’t poison for the first time in hours. Sett’s tongue was big, just like every other piece of him. It was thick and coated with barbs that ground on Aphelios like rough sand. Big enough to gag on if they weren’t careful. That was, if Aphelios had still been capable of doing so. The noctum poison stole most of the function from his body. 

When they parted Aphelios’ tattooed lips were coated in drool. He collapsed into Sett, resting his flushed cheek flat against the man’s hot chest. All of the kissing was making Aphelios lightheaded. He needed a moment to catch his breath and think. At some point one of his hands had entangled itself in Sett’s hair, and held on to the pink strands with a firm grip. 

“I like it.”

“What?” Sett awkwardly screwed his head down to shoot him a confused look. He shook away the red hair that was scattering into his face. Because of the angle, it made his neck scrunch up into little rolls. Aphelios couldn’t help but laugh at his less than flawless view. Sett played along with it well enough, putting on a silly face and sticking out his long tongue. “You like what you see, kitten?”

“Skunk bear,” Aphelios retaliated with a jab to his pectoral. He could take worse. “You asked if you talk too much.”

“Right, we were... havin’ a conversation. Thanks, I guess? Uh, do ya wanna go to my room now?” Sett asked dumbly. He couldn’t stop the eagerness from spilling into his voice. 

“Okay,” Aphelios was never one for wasting his time. He smiled, pulling away faster than Sett could second-guess himself and start word vomiting again. The man had a habit of talking himself into circles, and it was only worse on those occasions that Aphelios was functionally mute. When he failed to permit enough time before visiting to allow the poison to fade in its effects. 

Sett followed close behind as they hurried through the general complex. It was much more commercialized, lacking any hint of passion or personality. The decorations were almost gaudy. They held no meaning, no underlying purpose beyond showing all that viewed it that whoever owned the building was capable of splurging on gilding everything in sight. It held the theme of more classic Ionian architecture with its organic forms and focus on natural elements. That was all it had going for it, however. 

Sounds of brutality and chanting came echoing from the fighting pits. The marbled floor rumbled with the energy of the audience’s heavy footfalls. Flickering lights placed at even intervals along the corridors shook at the same pace. The air here was almost suffocating, smelling heavily of blood, sweat, and smoke. Aphelios did not know how Sett could tolerate it so evenly with his heightened senses. Was he accustomed to even the harshest of cruelties? If he could pick out Aphelios’ distinctly alien aroma from the sea of Ionians then this must have felt like torture. Yet he stood amongst this festering swamp like a proud king above his subjects. 

The scent of blood was as familiar to Aphelios as it was unwanted. 

Sett’s personal chambers were to be found in a separate building attached to the arena complex. They stumbled through the overgrown courtyard all with bubbling laughter at some joke Sett had made. The course of the night was approaching an inevitable destination. One that usually involved removing all of their clothes and relearning the way each other tasted. 

As they reached Sett’s building, The Boss himself took the lead, walking with the familiarity of someone who could do it blindfolded. The interior was much more comfortable here, with touches of personality that could only belong to Sett. There were claw marks engraved into a wooden support beam, a sack of rice that looked like it had been beaten one too many times. Silk everywhere, draped from windows, painted and hung upon the walls as art pieces, and his bed was drowning in it. Sett had a peculiar liking to the fabric, maybe he just enjoyed soft things…? Stone weights—that Aphelios was certain weighed twice as much as him—were piled into an unassuming corner. Metal bars stretched across the ceiling, he’d seen Sett hanging from one of them on one occasion. There were also a wide variety of trophies and commemorations scattered about his living quarters, some were in his bedroom, others in the living area, there were also quite a few shoved into some dark stuffy storage closet.

‘ _Undefeated_ ’ racked up a lot of rewards.

There was a large portrait of a serene looking Vastayan woman, illuminated by candle light and faintly reminiscent of a shrine. If Aphelios was devoted to the heavens, then Sett was devoted to himself, but he did certainly love his mother as well. 

Sett sauntered over to his bedside table, a sense of confidence in his gait. He removed his brass knuckles then flexed the individual fingers to help ease the tension between them. All the while, Aphelios was busy watching the way those tight pants accentuated his toned ass. 

“Ya don’t look like you’re in any rush,” Sett snorted and looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in Aphelios’ direction. “Not plannin’ on undressing?” 

He stepped closer, coming up behind Sett and pressing his body flush against his back. Because of Aphelios’ smaller stature his growing arousal was only prodding Sett’s upper thigh rather than nestling into the curve of his ass. Aphelios’ hands found the sides of Sett’s abdomen, trailing down to cup his ass and squeeze.

Sett gave a startled purr. 

“I could go like this?” Aphelios murmured. 

“ _Phel_ ,” Sett hissed. His shoulders tensed in surprise before loosening up again. Turning his head forward as he pushed back against Aphelios’ erection. “I’m not ruining my nice pants, so take off your damn clothes before I tear them off o’ ya myself.” 

To anyone else that would have sounded like a threat. 

“You do it, then.” Aphelios gestured to himself with a knowing smirk. Sett moved to face him, and put some distance between them so he had room to work. He mumbled something along the lines of “demanding,” but did as he was told. Steady fingers worked at the clasps and enclosures securing his clothing to his body. One by one the garments dropped to the floor, pooling around his feet in a growing collection of purple and green hues. As more was removed, more pale milky skin was revealed, pure and unblemished by scars or markings beyond the curving crescent tattoos of ink sewn into flesh. Sett’s fingertips trailed along one symbol in particular, following the swooping lines along his pectoral to his lower abdomen. Leaving a teasing touch around a swelling bud of a dusky nipple, now hardened from the facsimile of a sensation. The press of his sharp claws ghosting just so made Aphelios tense, barely withholding a shuddering gasp. Any touch needed to possess some brutality behind it for Aphelios to even feel it. If Sett pressed any deeper, he’d be drawing up blood. 

The dynamic of power between them wasn’t so simple. Taking care of your partner, suiting their needs instead of claiming for your own, that was what Aphelios prefered, so it was what he looked for. Though, on occasion, it was nice to surrender control to someone who knew what they were doing. Sett could have anyone he wanted. To many, it was an honor to be chosen to share his private company. Aphelios wondered if the men and women fighting for his attention intended to take The Boss, or have him take them. Would they be surprised to find out Sett’s preferences did not lean in favor of the latter? 

What a show that would be. If Sett was ever pressed for gold, all he needed to do was whore himself out, or start making a show of it in the fighting pits. Bidders with deep pockets would love to take their turns using Sett the way Aphelios had. It would be a less despicable alternative to the killing, at the very least. 

“Shame that you hide all o’ these,” Sett titled his head appreciatively causing his hair to cascade back into his face. He wanted to hold it back, to prevent it from hiding the handsome features that lied beneath. He wanted to kiss every scar lining his body, map them like the constellations in the sky. He wanted to know Sett by memory, relearn the way he felt inside. 

Aphelios shook himself from his thoughts, raising an eyebrow at Sett’s statement. “My markings?” 

“Yeah. I see a whole lotta tats passing through here every day, but nothing like these. ”

“The Lunari prefer to be alone,” Aphelios noted. “We get markings for devotion.” It would be beyond offensive to see an outsider painting themself in a language they didn’t understand. Their methods passed down between generations, secrets that their ancestors bled for, died for, in the hopes that their descendants would carry them. 

Sett’s eyes darted between the numerous splashes of purple on Aphelios’ bare chest, all the way down to the point where they vanished beneath his pants. It didn’t matter, he knew how they continued on, framing his thighs and curling around his calves. “Looks like you’re pretty devoted, then.”

Aphelios gave a slight nod, not interested in pursuing the line of dialogue any further. For other Lunari, prayer and regular worship were enough to bear the symbol of the moon. For Aphelios, it was each Solari warrior he slew in the defense of his people. Another tattoo meant another pyre to burn, the acrid scent of roasting flesh assaulting his senses. Mount Targon was an unforgiving home, space was limited, and the ground often frozen in the colder seasons. The fallen would be returned to the sky as ashes, so they could dance upon the stars once more. In the end, all would return to the night. 

“I do what I must.”

Understanding it as the dismissal it was, Sett continued. Threading the thick rope sash through its closure and allowing both pieces to fall with a metallic clang. Then Aphelios was being pushed down by Sett’s steady arms until he was lying on his massive bed. Aphelios brushed aside the silk sheets swallowing him so he could watch as his boots were removed. He angled his hips upwards as his tight pants slid down. “Damn,” Sett struggled, having to tug harder than usual, the fabric stubbornly clung to the curves of his thighs and ankles with a reluctance that was almost amusing. If the two of them weren’t already so hungry to begin, some laughter may have passed between them. 

Smallclothes came last, compact and holding Aphelios down with a pressure that almost hurt. Sett took the garment with two hands on both sides of his hips, wary of the claws. The way the fabric dragged against his cock was almost obscene, like it was some divine gift, some valuable prize being presented before a clamouring audience. A calculated slowness intended to build up anticipation, and in this case, arousal. It was so agonizing, Aphelios wanted to kick Sett in the chest for being such a tease with his own body. In the end, the buildup could only last so long before the blood rushing to his cock caused it to fight against the delay and spring to attention. Sett tossed his smallclothes somewhere into the void behind him. 

Both of them took a moment to catch their breath. Sett was still standing, hovering over his naked form with an awfully large amount of clothes on given the circumstances. It made Aphelios want to tear them to pieces, and he wasn’t even the one with claws. Sett was staring at him, golden eyes taking in moonlit skin, the gentle curves contrasted by hardened planes of muscle. 

“You are not naked.”

Sett smirked, “good eye.” He made no effort to change it. Instead he dropped to his knees and found some comfort residing between Aphelios’ thighs. It wasn’t easy accommodating for his bulkiness, Aphelios was practically doing a split while his legs hung off the edge of Sett’s mattress. 

“You should be,” Aphelios glowered back, but already forgave him. This new position gave him a decent idea of what he had in mind. That, and the way Sett was staring at his cock like he wanted it for dinner. Teeth were always a concern with him, but Sett had enough experience in using them on him. 

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Sett winked, wetting his lips. He took one leg between his steady hands, his fingers big enough to wrap around his entire calf. Beginning at the sole, Sett ran his rough tongue along the smooth surface and up his heel. It was abrasive enough to stir sensation into Aphelios’ dead skin, the dormant nerves alighting in interest from contact it had long since forgotten. Feeling, as simple as it was, was already enough to drive him wild. His eyes fell closed as he tipped his head back and moaned. Sett exhaled a small chuckle somewhere beneath him. 

Aphelios didn’t quite get the man’s apparent interest with his feet when there were so many other more exciting places to lick. Though, he was certain Sett would devour him whole if he could. 

Sett moved higher, trailing saliva up his shin and then to his inner thigh. Pausing once and a while to mark Aphelios’ skin with gentle bites. Every inch of him that Sett touched came to life in a storm of sparks. As he drew closed to the heat between his legs, the sensations grew more intense. There was a low growl coming from Sett as he roughly shoved his nose into his groin and sniffed, like he was trying to savor the scent. Aphelios couldn’t decide if he was aroused or amused by the shameless behavior. His slender fingers tangled into Sett’s mop of red hair, urging him forward. 

Rather than go straight for his cock, Sett focused on his balls instead. His strong hands gripped onto his waist, taking as much of them as he could into his mouth. Suckling rough enough to get Aphelios to cry out into the cool night air. His hips jerked involuntarily from the pleasure, the forward motion had his cock rutting against the side of Sett’s jaw. He appeared to be amused by this, judging from the twinkle in his dilating eyes, and the rumble in his chest. 

As they worked out a makeshift pace, something heady polluted the room. Aphelios blinked in confusion, wondering its origin before registering that it was coming from Sett. The scent was musky, welcomingly overpowering, and almost dizzying. Now that he remembered it, this typically happened whenever things started to get heavy between them. It was Sett’s pheromones, the indication that he was ready to breed. It was a natural tool used for attracting suitable mates. Though it was somewhat entertaining that his physical instincts couldn’t predict that the only person that would be getting bred tonight was Sett himself. 

“Stop playing,” Aphelios attempted to sound annoyed, but felt desperate instead. 

Thankfully Sett was good at taking orders from him in the bedroom. Finally, he threw away all pretenses of foreplay and ran his tongue up the underside of his cock. With one hand, he gripped the base, tugging Aphelios’ foreskin down to reveal the head. Without any further warning, Sett swallowed him whole. 

“ _S-stars_ ,” Aphelios moaned, but invoking the name of the heavens at the given moment was probably a poor decision. He hoped the ancestors had their gazes turned elsewhere. 

His mouth was hot, and slathering his length with saliva. Sett tried his best at keeping his fangs from cutting down, but the pressure was still there. Not to mention the abrasiveness of his barbed tongue, or the ease in which he took Aphelios’ entire cock. Aphelios wasn’t exactly small for a human, but Sett was just massive in every sense of the word. It was more enjoyable for the both of them that way, Aphelios could recklessly thrust into him without any worry of inflicting discomfort, and Sett could take his cock without choking. 

Aphelios could barely wrap his lips around Sett’s cock even if he tried, let alone fit it all inside of his mouth. It could only go about half way, and that was considering his lack of a gag reflex granted by the noctum poison. 

It was almost hypnotising watching Sett bobbing along his length, the way his stubborn hair fell into his hungry eyes. The corners of his mouth were spilling with drool, producing more than a human would thanks to his heritage. It was a wonder how he didn’t drown on his own saliva. Aphelios’ moans were hoarse coming from his damaged vocal cords, but he made no attempt at silencing himself despite that. It stung, but the pain felt different when it was laced with arousal. He didn’t hold back, now was as good a time as any to allow himself to be vulnerable.

Sett felt so perfect on his cock, it was turning his legs into water. They shook with an immense effort to stay spread apart and not wrap around Sett’s skull. His grip in his hair tightened, drawing a debauched whine out of Sett’s throat. His ears flattened down as his eyes rolled back into his head. The hand still gripping his thigh dug its claws in. Aphelios gasped, his cock jerking from the burst of pain, struggling to keep his own eyes open behind his innate physical reactions. He wanted to see everything, to watch the whore Sett turned into whenever he had a cock in him. 

He needed… needed…

The pressure building at the root of his erection was enough of a warning that Aphelios was pushing past his limits. He tugged on Sett’s hair, dragging the man off of his cock with a wet pop, his fangs skirting along as he went. That made his back arch up and his toes curl. 

Sett growled at having his food being taken from him. He was looking far less than human, with his fangs bared and his pupils narrowed into harsh slits. Aphelios drew his hand away, releasing the hold on his hair, but not without a few scratches behind Sett’s ears first. 

_  
“Too good_ ,” Aphelios panted, attempting to explain the sudden rejection. Beads of sweat dripped down his tense abdomen as he fought to gain control of himself. His hair was wet and flattened against his forehead. Being so close to release and having to fight it was torture, but being forced into waiting to fuck Sett after climaxing would be even worse. His presence alone was enough to make Aphelios’ blood run south. 

“I wanted you,” Sett grumbled, rising to his feet and giving his body a good stretch. He needed to get the circulation flowing back to his legs after kneeling for so long. His thick arms made an arch as he clasped his hands together and leaned back, curving his spine. Aphelios failed to prevent his eyes from finding the huge tent in those skin tight pants. It’s not like he was trying to stop himself in the first place, honestly. He could see the print of Sett’s erection fighting to be freed from it’s prison. He almost felt sympathy for it. “Wanted to taste you.”

“You can taste me still?”

“Not your cum,” Sett sighed dramatically before collapsing onto his bed beside him with a thud. The silk sheets rushed to greet him, practically drowning him. 

“I’m sorry.” Aphelios rolled to his side, raising himself up on his hands and knees before crawling over to rest atop Sett’s muscled chest. He wasn’t sorry at all. 

Sett leaned in like he was about to press their lips together, but then licked a messy wet stripe up Aphelios’ forehead. Sett had to exhale loudly to keep his dark fringe from sticking to his tongue. He didn’t need to have a hairball now, of all times. Aphelios scrunched his nose in pseudo distaste. Not exactly put off by it—because the animalistic behavior was more of a turn-on than anything—but considering what had just been in his mouth… And there was so much drool, it was like a friendly temple cat had chosen to shower him with kisses after giving it some salted meat. 

Sett pulled far away enough to give Aphelios a calculating look. “You know how you can make it up to me, kitten? Putting your goods to use elsewhere. It’s kinda sad, it’s been ages since I’ve met someone brave enough to mount me like you do. Everyone’s afraid of askin’ incase I’d get pissed at ‘em or whatever, but then they can’t even take my knot in the first place. And then they don’t want my mouth anywhere ‘cuz of my damn teeth. Say my tongue is too rough for them, too. Nothin’ fits nowhere and we just grind against each other like horny teens. Such a pain, why even bother? Now you, you ain’t like the rest of ‘em at all. So, I could use a little indulgence, don’t you think?” 

“Do not crush me,” Aphelios warned in place of answering. His pale fingers trailed a path along Sett’s sweltering skin, grabbing hold of his vest and sliding it from his muscular shoulders. Sliding himself down Sett’s chest, he found the seam of those sinful pants and tugged. Practically peeling them from Sett’s sweaty body. He was a pretty sight with the white fabric clinging to his thick thighs and sizable erection, but it couldn’t beat what his ‘momma’ gave him. 

“You want me on top?” Sett’s eyes widened. Was that so surprising? Most of the time they ended up in a position where they were bending over each other, but Sett seemed like he would prefer to have some autonomy while receiving. Did he not? 

He’d seen Sett’s girthy cock enough times to remember it with his eyes closed, yet having it unveiled before him again was making his brain simmer. Sizable was an understatement, it was bigger than his forearm. Moon give him strength. Sett wasn’t exaggerating, how could anyone take that thing? Aphelios curled his fingers around the shaft, and watched mesmerized as Sett tensed under his touch. He could feel his cock twitch in his hand, beads of precum oozing from the slit. 

“Phel?”

“Ah…” Aphelios blushed, jerked out of his daze by Sett’s amused voice. “You are The Boss.”

“Your mouth is hangin’ open,” Sett laughed, sitting upward and catching Aphelios’ chin between two clawed fingers. Tipping his head upwards, he held him frozen with an intense gaze. 

Oh, so his mouth was open. Rather than closing it, he sighed and said, “I forget how big you are…” He wasn’t knotted yet, that would make him grow even larger. 

Sett’s face was so close, their noses were touching. Aphelios could feel the prickle of a stubbly jaw rubbing against his skin, the familiar friction brought a smile to his lips. Golden, half lidded eyes studied him, pupils blown into complete darkness. Sett’s breath was hot, and his pheromones were making everything beyond irresistible. Aphelios’ cock was aching despite a lack of any contact being provided. 

“I can’t wait to ride you, Phel,” Sett chuckled, a gentle purr rumbling from his sculpted chest. His hips rutting upwards into Aphelios’ grasp, his mouth open in a silent moan. Aphelios was longing to capture that moan and make it his own, so he did. Their lips met with a sweet sigh, two souls uniting as one. Their cycles in sync once more. The kiss soon grew deeper as Sett’s took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaving the flesh swollen and raw. Before Sett, kissing was uncomfortable at best, where cold and unfeeling parts rubbed together for an eternity that never seemed to end. Now his lips blossomed to life under heated bites like a waxing moon, his tongue became stimulated by Sett’s own with its sandpaper touch. The world grew brighter, the darkness faded with his light. Everything seemed so much easier when they were in each other's arms, the world’s troubles fled away to distant horizons and freed his mind. It was a dangerous thing, yet he craved it all the same. 

When they parted for air they did not separate far, Aphelios found peace in resting his forehead against Sett’s, breathing in his atmosphere. He was a heady drug that he just couldn’t get enough of. Aphelios met kiss after kiss with a desperate frenzy, all the while their hands mapped out each other’s bare skin. Sett followed the trail of his endless purple markings as Aphelios stroked Sett’s length with a lazy rhythm. 

“Wait.” The next time they broke apart to breathe, Aphelios had enough sense to recall his original intentions before getting lost in the glow. Sett would need to be prepared, meaning he needed to get up and find a suitable lubricant. Aphelios climbed off the bed with an assassin’s grace, his footsteps left behind no sound as he searched for where Sett kept his oil. It was somewhere over here, if he remembered correctly. On an outrageously flashy dresser near the entrance of the bedroom of his chambers. 

Sett made a strangled noise that sounded like a small fluffy animal being stepped on. “Where are you goin’ in the middle of-“

Aphelios spared him a glance, moving his hands by instinct, forming the shapes and symbols of a wordless language before his reason could catch up to him. Sett’s eyes followed the motions without a trace of understanding. It was easier for Aphelios to speak without speaking, even when the poison wasn’t stealing his voice away. Rarely did he actually talk to other people, most of his moonbrothers and sisters knew the same silent tongue as him. Only outsiders needed enlightening. “To get oil.”

Sett’s face became a healthy shade of red. “Oh.”

And there it was, the liquid he had been searching for was held in a curvaceous dark pink vial with a small cork stopper. Aphelios picked it up delicately between two fingers and returned to Sett. The man was sprawled out on his giant mattress acting like he was settling in for a nap instead of a night of coupling. His arms were folded behind his head and a leg was bent at the knee. 

Uncorking the vial, Aphelios poured the oil into his hand and slathered it across his fingers. Sett shamelessly spread his meaty thighs in anticipation, and Aphelios obliged by slotting himself between them. He closed the container and let it fall somewhere in the pile of silk sheets around them. Sett could deal with it in the morning. 

“Ready?”

“C’mon, you know I am.”

Slowly, he circled a fingertip around Sett’s entrance, teasing the sensitive skin and coating it with lubricant. Sett let out a hushed curse in surprise, groaning about the cool liquid touching his hole. He shivered and adjusted his hips, angling them upward and allowing Aphelios more space to work with. 

“I thought you were ready?” Aphelios smiled innocently. 

“You’re so cruel, kitten,” Sett pouted. Aphelios apologized by finally dipping a finger past his tight entrance and pressing it inside. That earned him a drawn out moan and another burst of heady pheromones invading his senses, like honey dripping from his tongue. Perhaps those Vastayan instincts understood more about who was being bred than he gave them credit for. 

Sett was just as good at taking it outside the ring as he was inside of it. Aphelios added another finger, and then a third in what felt like no time at all. The first had slipped in without much resistance, and the second was almost the same. Spreading him open was less of a chore, and more of a stimulating way to explore his body. It was stiflingly hot, wet, and Aphelios wasn’t sure Sett ever intended to let him have his fingers back with the way his muscles were sucking him in and holding him there. 

“Would you fuck me already?” Sett hissed behind grit teeth. He was moving his hips in time with Aphelios’ movements, making an effort to fuck himself on Aphelios’ hand. His cock was bobbing with the motion. “I can take it. I’m this close to sittin’ on your goods right now, Phel, I swear.”

Aphelios couldn’t stop himself from laughing at Sett’s needy pleas. “Okay. You are done. The Boss gets what he wants.” The sloppy Ionian speech was good enough for him despite its glaring flaws, because he was knocking Aphelios onto his ass and climbing into his lap faster than he could blink. Sett took both of Aphelios’ wrists and pinned them above his head, while the weight of his body rested on Aphelios’ thighs was more than enough to keep him from moving. Sett was close to flattening him entirely.

“Sett,” he moaned, arching his spine so his torso formed a sinful curve. Aphelios was unable to buck his hips or adjust his legs in search of friction. All matters of pleasure had suddenly shifted into Sett’s capable hands. He’d only been allowing Aphelios to hold power over him for his own amusement. Now he was serious about getting what he wanted. Sett’s hungry eyes were darkened with lust as he met Aphelios’ lips with his own. With none of the patience of before, he took Aphelios’ mouth in a storm of passion. Biting, sucking, and letting drool spill down his chin without a care. Surely all of the paint Aphelios had worn when he arrived was coating Sett’s skin by now. 

Somewhere during their heated kisses, Sett’s calloused fingers fumbled between their groins, searching for Aphelios’ length. Claws scraped along sensitive skin, causing him to moan wildly into Sett’s mouth, his whole body trembling. A firm vice wrapped around Aphelios’ cock. Perhaps it was Sett’s hand as he attempted to align it with his entrance, or maybe Sett had already seated himself while he was so lost in responding to his body’s spontaneous recollection of what touch felt like. All Aphelios knew was that when he opened his eyes again, Sett had pulled away from kissing him in favor of lowering himself onto his cock. 

Rather than slowly filling himself, he took it all at once. Sett’s thighs were tense around Aphelios’ sides as that ass met pale hips. The both of them were panting, fighting for air like they’d just been sparring for hours in the fighting pits. Sett was tight enough to suck the life out of him, and the pheromones from earlier were somehow even stronger now. Those golden eyes had reverted back to animalistic slits and were emitting a subtle glow. There was a powerful aura coming from him. The less human Sett became, the more heat Aphelios felt pooling south. Why it was so arousing to him, he wasn’t exactly certain. But in some parallel reality where Sett was only a human, things wouldn’t be half as fun. Thankfully, there was enough magic flowing between them to get drunk off of, and unlike the poison it went down easy. 

Sett used his muscled thighs to raise himself upwards, far enough that only the tip of Aphelios’ length was still nestled inside of him, before slamming down again. His grip on Aphelios’ restrained arms tightened as he cried out in pleasure. Aphelios himself was struggling to buck into Sett with all of that weight holding him in place. He was going to die, oh stars. Everything was too much for his overstimulated senses. He was so used to feeling nothing, wanting for nothing but peace and silence. Now Aphelios’ whole body was on fire with feeling, electricity sparked along his pale skin, and if he closed his eyes the midnight sky was there waiting for him. Aphelios wanted Sett, he wanted to fill Sett with his essence until the sun broke upon the horizon. He wanted to curl up in the vast expanse of his arms and relearn how it felt to be held by someone who cared. He wanted to be able to stay without it meaning that one of his moonbrothers was being slain in his absence. He wanted to love someone back, just once. 

It was selfish to wish for more. 

“ _Fuuuck_ , I needed this yesterday!” Sett growled before his mouth fell slack around a loud moan. He was fucking himself on Aphelios’ cock in earnest by now. The pace he set was unbearably slow, like he was fighting to savor it. To drag out their orgasms for as long as he could. A pinch of something like regret struck at Aphelios’ heart. Sett knew that as soon as they finished with this, Aphelios would disappear again. He wanted to make the most of their time together while it lasted. 

Aphelios didn’t want to leave. He would trade almost anything to stay like this forever. The problem was all he could trade was everything he had. Aphelios would be throwing away his people, his religion, the duties he had sworn to fulfill, the sacrifice his sister was suffering for him. Why should he care what he felt, when leaving meant the deaths of those he was trusted to protect. Surely the moon had not intended for this destiny? Was Sett merely another step he would take on his path, and nothing more? She wanted to show him something with this phase, but what could it be? The stars provided him no answers, the only reply back was a deathly silence. 

Aphelios was too far gone to think anymore about the cosmic reality, but the guilt still wore away at his stomach. It was barely legible with all the other feelings he was dealing with at the moment, but it haunted him nonetheless. 

Even with Sett’s efforts to delay their inevitable climax, it approached with a relentless haste. Aphelios could feel the pressure building beneath his skin, the volcano about to erupt. A few more thrusts from Sett and all of it would be over. 

“ _More. Please!_ ”

Sett responded to the request as he did most things, as a challenge. He gave a pleased rumble from his muscular chest in agreement before picking up speed. His hips crashed down onto him again and again, with enough force to bruise. The glow in Sett’s eyes was becoming blinding, but Aphelios found it impossible to look anywhere else. He wanted to kiss him again, but was currently finding trouble in remembering how to breathe. Aphelios was crying out with each bounce, hoarse and raw around the edges. It only seemed to inspire Sett even more. He ducked down, licking a trail along Aphelios’ salty skin. Leaving saliva in the dips of his abs and over the curves of his pectorals before dragging his rough tongue against Aphelios’ dusky nipples. Somehow, the pleasure coursing through him intensified even further. Sett surged forward and dug his nose into Aphelios’ throat. He licked along his artery, inhaling his scent before biting down. 

That was all it took to drive Aphelios over the edge. He was seated fully within Sett as he climaxed, filling his insides with his load. At the very same time, Sett was going through a more intense change. He had backed away after biting him, sitting up in order to ride out his own completion. The base of his cock was thickening, swelling into a bulbous shape. Cum leaked from his slit in a seemingly endless stream. It was hot and thick, splattering over Aphelios’ chest in a sticky blanket. Sett was hissing, growling, yowling aloud. His teeth looked longer than usual as they dug into the bottom of his lip, causing blood to spill over his chin. 

It was a show on its own to watch Sett lose himself, to see him knotting the air as he came from fucking himself on Aphelios’ cock alone. 

Aphelios was startled out of his thoughts when one of the hands pinning him let go in favor of entangling with one of his own. Sett was staring down at him, his red hair cascading down into his eyes, both of their fingers joining together in an intimate embrace. His gaze was intense, but not with scrutiny, no, it was more like fondness. 

“Phel,” Sett whispered. Softly, because no one else in the world needed to hear it but him. It wasn’t even a word, just a name, but it felt more like a confession than anything. 

“Sett,” Aphelios exhaled. His heartbeat was deafeningly loud in the small space between them. 

“I love you.”

He knew it was coming.

_But_

_why couldn’t he_

_respond?_

Tears were prickling at the corners of his eyes, but not for joy. He couldn’t lie, but he couldn’t hurt him. Not right now, not like this. He wasn’t good enough with the Ionian tongue to portray what he needed to say. Moon save him. His arms were still held fast by Sett’s and even if they weren’t the silent motions would mean nothing to him. 

“I can’t-“

Sett hushed him, his mouth cracking into a ( _fake?_ ) smile. He brought a hand to curl around Aphelios’ sweaty cheek, running his thumb along the crescent marking. “It’s alright. I know. Still love ya anyway.”

Aphelios closed his eyes in shame. “Sorry.” 

When he dared to open them again, what he found was a hopeful innocence in Sett’s eyes. It was entirely unlike him. “Stay? Just for tonight?”

Aphelios didn’t respond, but he didn’t say no, either. Sett decided not to press for an answer. Instead, he removed himself from where he was sitting on Aphelios’ body, and climbed off the bed. He offered a hand, helping Aphelios stand on his pleasure induced wobbling legs. It was “ _taking too long_ ,” so Sett just picked him up instead, and carried him to his private bath. 

They cleaned the sex from their bodies, both exhausted from the night, helping one another where they could. Speaking came less often, but with more sweetness. They kissed more times than Aphelios could count to in Sett’s native tongue by the time they made it back to the disheveled bed. 

As tired as Aphelios was, his mind refused to rest. Instead of sleeping, he was held captive in his thoughts. The only solace he had was the gentle snoring of Sett curled against his back. How he wished to stay there in that moment, succumb to the warmth and affection Sett offered and allow himself to dream.

Aphelios could not feel the tears as they streamed down his face.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He had become ice cold while he wasn’t paying attention. How had he failed to notice it for so long? He wasn’t the man Sett thought he was.

Aphelios didn’t have a heart, not anymore. There was an eclipse within his chest where the organ should have been. No love, pain, or sadness could penetrate the prison of his body. Nothing remained beyond devotion to his sacred duty. 

Sett had become his heart for the briefest of moments, everything he’d been missing and more. He burned a flame inside that terrible darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. But the darkness was something greater than him, greater than either of them. Who was Aphelios to try and fight against his destiny? He was but a single man made of drops of poison and wasted dreams. An empty vessel for a higher purpose. 

Aphelios had nothing to give to Sett but scant stolen minutes and choked breaths. He wasn’t foolish, he knew that the very thing he used to connect himself to Alune was killing him. It already made him feel like a walking corpse, cursing him with a cold unfeeling body and a stomach that never hungered. Sometimes when he coughed long enough, he found red splattering his gloves. 

This bond between them was a farce, a childish daydream of wanting what he could never have. This life was never made for him, and never would be. Sett was a sun, burning bright enough to blind him from his own reason. Aphelios was not quite the moon, but the space between, a twilight that reached for the fading day. No matter how hard he might try, it would always escape from his grasp. The night would drag him back again and again, regardless. 

The Lunari stole his voice, the only person he truly loved in this world, his own autonomy, and eventually would claim his life as well. They worshipped his sacrifice and pain like it was the highest honor to bear. The blood that stained his hands, the tears that stung his eyes. Bodies, so many bodies piled high enough to rival Mount Targon itself. A shadow of an embrace as Alune weeped for him, for he could not feel his own pain, but she could. 

Sett would smile, ramble on and on about his beauty. Ask him for nothing but his presence. Sett would give, and give, and give his very soul. All that Aphelios ever wanted, he need only ask. A home that wasn’t haunted by phantoms, hands that mended instead of hurt, a warmth that didn’t fade when the candles flickered out. He could sleep at night in peace without planning for the next assault, or carving flesh with ancient relics. It would be too easy to succumb to that innocence of love that hadn’t yet found its wings. Sett had changed himself for him, welcoming no others into his chambers for the very idea of doing so felt like betrayal. 

And yet… 

How sad they were, two killers playing as lovers. There was no respite to be found for the likes of them. 

And what would the Aspect say? Her advice was always fantastical at best, and foolish at all other times. He could picture her now with her gentle countenance and snowy locks that only made Aphelios miss Alune even more deeply. Diana might have told him something like, “ _change is the nature of the moon, as it is the nature for her people, moonbrother. Find your own light within the darkness. Follow where your heart leads you, Aphelios, for our very faith is built upon passion. She would never fault you for falling in love._ ”

Her ideals were lofty, and not centered in reality. He could not take the Aspect’s advice when she was so unsure of her orbit herself. What was Diana running from…? 

It did not matter. Tonight was not about her. 

In the end, the decision wasn’t a difficult one at all. He didn’t shed another tear, nor did he feel the sharp prickle of thorns piercing his dead heart. He mindlessly dressed himself, his body following the routine while his mind was elsewhere. Then he returned to Sett’s side, standing there above him, and watching him sleep wrapped in his silk sheets and fantasies. That soft red hair that Aphelios loved to run his hands through was scattered across his pillow. His chest rose and fell with gentle breaths, the moonlight’s glow making his tan skin look almost ethereal. His face became softer when he wasn’t trying to look tough for anyone, even with all the scars.

The hardest part was letting go of him, of what they could have had if the circumstances had been different, even if the choice had been an easy one. 

Sett had asked him to stay. He hadn’t agreed to it. He still felt like he had lied to him regardless. Aphelios frowned, his eyes searching for a hidden sign etched into naked, sweat slicked skin. Something to tell him he was making a mistake, screaming for him to stop and reconsider. He found none.

The mystery of their aligned orbits seemed so obvious now. The truth to why Sett had been so unescapable from the beginning. This bond they shared was the moon testing him again, asking for him to prove his loyalty. Aphelios could be questioned a million times, and the outcome would always remain the same. The Lunari were all that he lived for, and all that he would die for. Nothing would ever change that. His life had been decided for him the moment he was born. 

Aphelios offered Sett one last kiss goodbye, a gentle one to the crown of his head, for the Lunari always did so when they knew they were leaving those they held dear. He slipped into the moonlight, and in an instant, he was gone. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Hours later, Sett once again awoke to a cold, vacant bed. His body jerked upright with a start, expecting familiar dark eyes to be there, sizing him up with smug amusement. There was nothing at all, no, even less than nothing. Aphelios hadn’t left without managing to steal pieces of Sett along with him. He didn’t understand. Aphelios had confessed to wanting more, why did he leave? Sett allowed himself to think this time would be different. He was stupid enough to believe Aphelios wanted the same thing he did. 

_I love you._

_Sorry._

He expected it. What he didn’t expect was how much it hurt. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt in the ring, worse than when he discovered the truth of his father’s disappearance. It felt like the world was playing with him. Dangling everything he ever wanted in front of his eyes before stabbing him with it. So he really was in love, whatever good that did him now. Aphelios didn’t feel the same way, and he doubted that he ever would.

As much as it hurt, he knew the next time Aphelios found him Sett would make the same mistake again. He would do it until Aphelios finally grew tired of him and never returned. Even then, Sett would still travel half the world away to see him again. Could he live like this, pretending that the very thought of him wasn’t tearing him apart inside? He wasn’t so certain. Vastaya mated for life, but Sett wasn’t a Vastaya, not completely. If only that would spare him the heartbreak. 

Through the open window shone the last traces of the moon as dawn broke over Ionia’s horizon. Sett wanted to punch the damn thing out of the sky. 

Aphelios’ choice was deafening in its silence. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorryyyy lol
> 
> If you want to cry about settphel join the discord server everyone here loves do that all the time.  
> https://discord.gg/RsMtvbx


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